


Cuddle

by WellReadPenguin



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellReadPenguin/pseuds/WellReadPenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of the times, all of the ways he'd imagined this, and he never expected she'd be a cuddler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cuddle

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: "Castle" and all its wonderful characters are the property of ABC and Andrew Marlowe. Much as I enjoy playing with them, I unfortunately do not own them. Please don't sue me.

All of the times, all of the ways he'd imagined this, and he never expected she'd be a cuddler.

For a time he'd fallen into the trap of imagining her as Detective Beckett. Commanding, in control, no-nonsense (well maybe a bit) in the bedroom. He'd imagined a romp in bed with her would be like an interrogation or maybe even a frenzied sparring match, fighting for control as they scrapped between the sheets. He'd imagined biting and nipping and burning flesh. Demanding kisses and torn clothing. Power and heat. That's how he wrote it.

And maybe that's what he would have gotten had she taken him up on his offer that first case. If she had allowed herself to be his conquest. She might have come home with him; sexy, teasing, confident Beckett still high on the thrill of finishing the case.

But she would have left his bed and gone on with her life. And she would have remained Detective Beckett to him, a pleasant memory of the time he had a copy cat, but nothing more.

He would have missed out on Kate.

And this is most certainly Kate, he thinks as she snuggles – snuggles! – into his side, still bleary from sleep.

The Kate who – he was surprised to find – is quite timid. Confident, yes, but tentative all the same. She let him lead, which was a definite first. Her affection was reverent. Marveling at every touch, every sensation. And when she met his eyes, breathless, she left him breathless as well. Because he couldn't have imagined being with her like this. A thousand fantasies never came close.

She looks up at him now, as the soft morning light shines through his bedroom window, like she's not sure where she is. But when she sees him, recognizes him, she smiles. A big, eyes-bright, toothy grin. It's contagious and he smiles right back, wondering if his own expression matches the dazzling glow of hers.

She laughs after a moment, unable to contain herself.

"Hey no laughing in the bedroom," he teases. "Could hurt a guys feelings."

She giggles – giggles! – and presses her face against his bare chest.

"You have nothing to be worried about Castle." Bubbly, unrestrained, so different from Detective Beckett.

"Good, we wouldn't want my ego to suffer."

She sniggers, wriggling closer. "Yes, because your fragile ego is in such need of stroking."

"No, but other things might need stroking."

She slaps his chest playfully in response, but dissolves into another round of giggles.

He likes seeing her this way. He likes, even now, being able to unravel the mystery that is Kate Beckett. There's a new facet of her personality to be uncovered at every turn.

This morning – the first of what he hopes is many morning afters – it's giddy Kate. And that makes him giddy as well, because he knows that it's all for him. Giddy, smiling, cuddling Kate is all his.

He couldn't think of a more perfect sight to wake up to. Her brilliant smile. Her hair tickling his chest. Her bare skin pressed up against his. The glow of her happiness warming him like the sun.

He wraps his arms around her and leans down to kiss the top of her head, knowing full well that she's still trying to hide her goofy smile from him. But there's no hiding it – the happy. The happiness that he shares with her. The proof that they finally took the leap and survived. More than survived.

He thinks this Kate is part of the real Kate. The one that got lost when her mother died. The one that he found and coaxed out of hiding. With patience and charm and love.

She's just another layer to the Beckett onion. But this an important layer – a defining layer. The woman who stares down gang bangers in the interrogation room like they are children. The woman who knows way too much about dom play. The woman who could kick his ass with her bare hands...is a cuddler.

A shameless cuddler.


	2. Coffee

The only thing better than waking up beside him, she decides as her eyes flutter open for the second time that morning, is waking up beside him holding a fresh cup of steaming coffee.

He leans over her and sets the mug on the bedside table, stopping on his way back to place an impromptu kiss on her temple.

"Good morning," he whispers, his breath tickling her forehead in the most delightful way.

She can't hold back the smile that blooms deep within her. Her lips seem to forgotten any other way. They tilt up, uncontrolled. No matter how she tries to tamp them back down, they resist.

"Mmm, g'morning." She stretches out languidly, turning on her back to get a good look at his face, shaded by morning scruff that drives her wild with desire.

He brought her coffee. And just like those hundreds of times before when he offered her coffee at crimes scenes or in the precinct, his gesture says it all.

Maybe it's just now that she realizes the full extent of it too. Because she can't deny it any longer. She can't doubt his commitment, the level of his feeling. Not when she's shared this with him. Not when she's given herself fully to him, and him to her. It's more than coffee. It's a gift. His way of saying: "I have what you need. Even when you don't know you need it."

He regards her with an amused grin. Eyes clear and intent upon her face, which she knows is fashioned into an idiotic smile.

She's embarrassed. Just slightly. Because she should be playing it cool. She should have her poker face in check. Instead she's grinning like a goofy idiot. Like a school girl who's just had her first kiss and can't contain the giddiness. There's no masking the smile. It aches on her lips, forcing her mouth into a permanent crescent. If not for the heaviness of sleep in her limbs she's sure she'd be bouncing.

So she breaks away, scooting up against the headboard and grabbing her mug with admiration. Coffee. Delicious, energizing, wonderful coffee. It passes through her lips with delectable warmth. Bold and sweet.

"Oooh," she breathes in bliss. "You got vanilla creamer."

"Mhm," he nods. "Just for you."

And she tries to conceal the giddy school girl behind the mug that reads Armed and Dangerous, even though she's anything but at this moment. She hides it behind luxurious sips and keeps her eyes averted so he can't see. Because she thinks she's too happy. Too joyous. Too incandescently gleeful.

Not just about the coffee, but about him.

It was just one night. He's just a man. A man who makes her grin like a fool. Who brings her coffee just the way she likes it. But still just a man.

Her happiness shouldn't be dictated so easily by him.

But the happiness bubbles over without her permission, engulfing everything in a sunshine haze. Yes, her happiness is dictated by him.

It's not just that he brings her coffee, it's that he's become equally as essential.

He's the thing that gets her out of bed in the morning. The things the energizes her tired mind. The thing that keeps her running even when she doesn't think she can go any longer. He's not just the cream in her coffee, he's the caffeine that keeps her fueled. The sugar that's so deliciously sweet on her tongue. The warmth that floods her veins and makes life that little bit more bearable. And just thinking that feels so corny in her head. But she's in a corny mood.

She realizes she's been staring so she looks away. Too late. He sees it. His knowing grin proves it.

He coaxes her gaze back to his with a light tilt of her chin. And he devours her, first with his eyes, then with his mouth, which he melds with hers abruptly. A sudden spark of fire.

He tastes like coffee. Her coffee.

**Author's Note:**

> For dav, because he needed a cuddle.


End file.
